


A Bag of Ginger Newts (one-shot)

by sonmi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts, Library, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Owls, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:53:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonmi/pseuds/sonmi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OWLs are nigh, and among dusty shelves of library books, two very hungry fifth-years are trying very hard to hate each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bag of Ginger Newts (one-shot)

He’s three tables away, but she can hear him sighing—sighing—as if he’s capable of sound indicating emotions like remorse.

Hermione pops another ginger newt into her mouth, determined to finish at least one paragraph before another one of his annoying sighs interrupts her once again. Maybe she’ll employ a well-aimed hex and he’ll shut up. She’s three words away from finishing her last sentence of notes on the Polyjuice Potion when he gives his loudest, most irritating sigh yet.

And then Draco Malfoy opens his big, fat, smirky mouth and speaks to her.

‘There’s no eating in the library, Granger,’ he tells her, ‘but I’m sure you already know that.’

Hermione closes her eyes, slowly turns her head towards him, and opens her eyes again. ‘Of course I know that, Malfoy.’

‘Are you looking to be kicked out? Because you tap your quill when you’re thinking, and I find it quite bothersome—and if I just let it slip to Pince that Hermione Granger is eating ginger newts in the vicinity of her precious books …’

Her name feels weird coming from his mouth; Hermione has to stop herself from shivering a little bit. ‘Why don’t you move, then?’

Malfoy shurgs, a little smirk playing over his mouth. ‘Don’t feel like it. Besides, I’m hungry.’

‘Then why aren’t you at dinner?’ Hermione feels like she’s talking to a five-year-old, though she knows he’s purposely trying to get under her skin.

‘OWLs are in five days, d’you really think I’m going to waste time eating in the Great Hall? And to think you’re such an insufferable know-it-all, Granger,’ Malfoy says, the smirk on his face stretching a little bit wider.

Hermione closes her eyes again and exhales audibly through her nose. ‘No offense, your meal schedule isn’t something I’d care to devote my time to, Malfoy. Now, if you’ll shut up, I’ve got to keep studying.’

She starts copying out some second-year Charms notes. Another ginger newt is halfway to her mouth when he starts talking again.

‘I’m going to tell Pince that you’re eating, unless …’

‘Unless what, Malfoy?’ Hermione wants to throw her inkwell at his head.

His smirk is about a mile wide. ‘Unless you give me a ginger newt.’

‘Fine. Here!’ She shakes the paper bag at him, emblazoned with the fat, black, round Honeydukes logo.

Malfoy pushes back his chair; it squeaks painfully against the highly polished wood floor. His shoes click as he walks over to her table.

‘Now we’re getting somewhere. I was beginning to fear that I’d been sighing for nothing,’ Malfoy says.

Five minutes later, Malfoy’s moved all his books across from her. They work in silence. Hermione makes sure not to tap her quill, though she struggles internally to come to terms with such a simple action. It bothers Malfoy, and she doesn’t want him to get her kicked out of the library. What Hermione’s most worried about, however, is that she doesn’t feel like going out of her way to hassle him. That she’s willing to let him study uninterrupted.

Malfoy’s sitting across from her, diligently working, munching on a ginger newt. His brain must be fried from all the revision, she reasons, because he wouldn’t think of doing this—being so civil—normally. Would he?

Malfoy looks up and catches her staring. ‘Problem?’

‘N-no,’ Hermione says.

‘Good. Because it feels like you’re boring holes into the top of my head.’

Embarrassed, Hermione bows back over her open books and parchment. The familiar feeling of losing herself in her studies steals over her, and she doesn’t worry about Malfoy anymore; doesn’t notice his quill hanging mid-sentence as he watches her flip through a shabby, stained old book.

The candles burn low in their brackets, fizzling and popping. Arched glass windows show clouds drifting across pinprick stars. The library is silent like a tomb, except for the occasional rustling of a paper as a Gryffindor and Slytherin work their way through a bag of ginger newts.

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone, thanks so much for reading! please like, comment, review, etc. i'm currently working on some multi-chapter fics, so your feedback is really appreciated!


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